Lost Marshmellows
by Whit-Whit
Summary: based on the crazy ramblings of me and my friend it's really good
1. TRL

"So, where's the party today?" asked Cameron as she wiped down the counter in front of her friend.

"MTV. I have the joy of being on TRL," said Whitney, smearing ketchup over her plate with a French fry.

"Better you than me."

"Why do you say that?"

"I always say that."

"But why about TRL?"

"I have no idea. You're an actress, I'm a waitress. What the hell would I have to talk about there? How to get the grease stains out of your apron?"

Whitney laughed. She didn't understand Cameron's attitude. She had a normal life. Relatively speaking if you ignore her past. She wasn't getting phone calls for interviews and movies, guest appearances on TV shows and whatnot. Cameron sat in her apartment clicking away on her computer and serving burgers to government workers at lunch time. She didn't have to worry about tabloids taking pictures of her fresh out of bed going outside to get her paper, or getting recognized on the street or followed for miles by the paparazzi. What did she have to complain about?

"You wanted this life, remember?" said Whitney.

Cameron gave her famous "You're crazy" look, putting her hand on her hip. "I don't recall wanting to be a waitress, spending all my time clogging arteries of the nation's obese and trying to find my way around my apartment through the paper maze."

"You had that modeling job..."

"That required me to show up practically butt naked everyday. You said you would do nudity if it were tasteful, or with someone gorgeous. Mine was neither tasteful nor had a gorgeous person within a hundred mile radius."

Whitney laughed. "So you waitress to pay for college."

"I use to waitress to pay for college. I waitress now because no one gives a shit how smart you are unless you have a degree. I flunked out. What the hell was I supposed to do? Kill myself in the middle of the court?"

"It's not your fault you had to spend so much time in the hospital. Get over it."

"Yeah yeah yeah. Easy for you to say."

Of course it was easy for her to say. Whitney had her problems, yes. Cameron knew they were nothing like hers. All the same they had this fight at least once a week. The actress and the waitress, friends since diapers, complaining about their lives.

"My life isn't easy," said Whitney.

"That's your fault," Cameron said, pointing at her.

"My fault?"

"You wanted to be an actress."

"You told me to go on that audition."

"I knew if I didn't you would say I didn't support you in your dreams."

"I would not."

"You would too. When I told you the first time I didn't think it was a good idea, you sulked for weeks. That's why I told you to do it. I get tired of seeing you mopey, wanting the super star life. Now that you have it, you complain about."

"I have no privacy."

"Again, your fault. I had nothing to do with it."

"Some friend you are," joked Whitney.

"Right back at ya."

* * *

Whitney sat in the green room at the MTV studios, wondering if Cameron had went home to her "maze of papers" yet. She was nervous. This was TRL. This was her audience. People her age and younger who lived on TRL like they needed it to breathe. She was the lead in the Britney Spears bio pic; Ms. Baby one more time herself. If they didn't like her, the movie was going to crash and burn. "Oh god," Whitney said, fearing the worst when she would be up on that stage talking to the VJ. 

There was a knock on the door. It wasn't time for her to go on already was it?

"Come in."

And in they came. Whitney sat immobile at the sight of him. He stepped in, shutting the door behind him with a smile on his face. She nearly melted. He was "a flaming hot marshmellow" in Cam's words.

"Hi. I'm Orlando Bloom."

Yes he was. "Whitney Strickland."

"I wanted to compliment you on your work."

"M...my work?"

"Portraying Britney Spears. It had to be no easy feat."

If he only knew the half of it. "Yeah. It was a little challenging."

"Mind if I sit?"

"Sure. Go ahead." Whitney slapped herself in her mind. Stupid stupid stupid.

He sat barely two foot from her in a desk chair. "Is this your first time facing the firing squad of MTV?"

"Yes."

"It's not as bad as it looks. It's a bit intimidating but, not all that bad."

"Really?"

"You don't seem convinced," he said, still smiling.

"I believe you. It's just...nerve racking."

He laughed. Ah, he laughed. "I know. I've been here four times and still feel faint before I walk out that door."

Whitney laughed to herself. He feels faint. He's very British. She smiled. "So what are you here promoting?" She felt bad that he knew why she was there and she had no clue why he was there other than to be him-mouthwatering-self.

"Elizabethtown."

"Elizabethtown? Another back in time, costume wearing, sword swinging movie?"

"Actually, no."

No? "Really? What's it about? I'm a little out of touch."

"My character's father dies and he goes out to Kentucky for the funeral. But not before he loses his job and his girlfriend. Then he falls for a flight attendant."

"It really is a recent time movie. I thought Cameron was kidding."

"Who's Cameron?" he asked, keeping conversation with her.

"My friend. She's the entertainment news buff. She knows anything entertainment."

He nodded. As she sat staring at him, she thought it should be illegal to be so gorgeous and "marshmellowy good". There was a knock on the door.

"Mr. Bloom? It's time for you to go on," the person said.

He stood. "Nice meeting you," he said, holding his hand out.

Whitney stood, shaking his hand. "Same here."

He kept the smile on his face as he walked to the door. "Good luck out there," he said. "You'll be great." Then he was gone.

She collapsed on the couch as soon as the door closed. "Oh.My.God."

* * *

Whitney walked down the long hall with her personal assistant at her side, both silent. A voice was coming from the end of the hall but neither paid any attention to it. That was until the person the voice belonged to appeared around the corner. 

"Hi there," Orlando said, smiling as always as he approached the two ladies.

Cindy, Whitney's assistant, nearly dropped her handful of electronical gadgets and coffee. She stood silent with her mouth gaping open. Whitney elbowed her.

"Hi," Whitney returned, stopping in front of him. He was blocking their way.

"So, how did it go out there?" Orlando asked. "Did they murder you?" He brushed a lock of hair away from his face.

God, his hair is so gorgeous, Whitney thought. She eyeballed him.

"Whitney," he said, bringing her back to reality.

"Yeah?"

"How did it go?"

"It went ok I guess," she smiled nervously.

"I'm sure you did great," he assured her. He crossed his arms trying to hide the fact that his hands were shaking.

Whitney saw this and asked him "Are you ok?"

"Oh yeah. I just get nervous when I'm around beautiful girls," he said mindlessly.

She smiled. Orlando blushed and rubbed his cheeks. "Oh lord I just said that out loud didn't I?" He kind of chuckled as he looked down at his feet then back to Whitney. He smiled at her. "I'm sorry, it just kind of came out."

"Word vomit," she smiled back at him.

"Word vomit?" he asked, confused. "What's word vomit?"

"Uh," Whitney said, trying to think of a way to explain it to him. "It's when you think of something and then say it without thinking."

"You're strange, you know that?" he asked.

She was feeling more comfortable with him now that he called her strange. "You aren't the first person that's told me that. You probably won't be the last."

"Oh really?"

They stood in awkward silence after that, passing glances and nervous smiles back and forth. Whitney broke the silence. "I really need to get home," she said.

Orlando half smiled and moved aside, gesturing for her to pass by him. As she walked past him, dragging Cindy along behind her, he turned to them.

"Hey," he called down the hall.

Whitney stopped and turned around to look at him.

"Do you want to go get some coffee or something?" he asked her.

She shook her head in disbelief. "What?" He was kidding right?

"I just wanted to know if you would like to get some coffee or something," he repeated.

Whitney turned back to look at Cindy. She nodded at her. "I'll meet you at Cameron's later."

Whitney smiled at her. "Good." She turned back to Orlando as he neared them. "Alright. Sure."

They left Cindy standing in the hall of the MTV building and walked outside together. Once to the sidewalk, Whitney signaled for a taxi. A taxi crawled to a stop in front of them. Orlando reached it first, opening the door for her.

"After you," he said to her.

"Thank you," she said, getting in and scooting over.

He got in behind her.

Where to ma'am?" the driver asks.

Whitney looked to Orlando. He shrugged. "I don't know anything about New York. Do you?"

"Yeah, I know a little about the city. Café Latte," she said to the driver. "I hope you like this place," she said to Orlando.

"I think I will."


	2. A Flirt and An Elf

Orlando waited in the car for Whit to get done with her audition. Apparently she was taking him to meet a friend of hers tonight. They were supposed to meet fifteen minutes before but she was running a little late. He turned the radio on and his favorite song was playing, so he turned the music up and started singing. He didn't see her coming until she was banging on the driver's side window.

"Let me in my car,' Whitney said.

He rolled down the window "Your car?" he smirked. 'Last time I checked this was my car. Not yours."

"Yeah, but you don't know the way to her apartment, and I do.' She opened the door and pushed him out of the driver's seat.

He let her push him into the passanger seat, but he stole a quick kiss as she climbed in the driver's seat "Alright you can drive, but you owe me later," he said giving her a knowing smile.

"Always," she said.

"So tell me about your friend," he said, rubbing her hand with his thumb.

"Well, she's 23, she has long red hair, green eyes, and she's insane."

"Does she know you tell people she's insane?"

"If I don't tell them, she will."

He laughed. "Ok. What else."

"Hmmm. She's built like Britney Spears. But she's less of a slut," she said, looking at him.

He looked back at her. "I assume you two are so close you can make fun of each other like that."

"Who said I was making fun of her? I'm telling the truth."

"Whitney! You call your friend a slut?"

"Well, not to her face."

He sighed, looking out the window. "My god."

"I'm kidding," she laughed. "Chill out. I'm not taking you to meet my parents."

"For some reason I'm starting to feel that meeting them would be much easier."

'Trust me it wouldn't be easier,"

* * *

They walked into Cameron's apartment to silence. The silence was awkward to Whitney since silence was something you never got from Cameron or her apartment. 

"Is she home?" Orlando asked.

"She said she would be. Her car's out front."

Rustling came from across the room followed by a sneeze and a scatter of papers falling off what Whitney assumed to be the desk hiding behind and underneath mounds of paper and books.

"Cam?" Whitney called, holding Orlando's hand and pulling him with her as she tried to make her away across the room.

"If shit's in your way, move it," a voice said.

"To where?" Whitney asked sarcastically.

"Hell I don't know. Set it on fire. I'll go across the hall and get the marshmellows," the voice laughed.

Orlando looked around for the disembodied voice. A head of flaming red hair popped up over an oversized stack of papers.

"Ooooooooh. So you finally bring the lit'le man 'ome, eh?" asked Cameron, doing dead on Irish.

Whitney looked over to see Cameron's head. Of all days for her to be in writer mode. Here she was trying to introduce her new boyfriend and Cameron was in a bun, her librarian glasses, and a slew of voices that were not hers. Well, at least she wasn't in smart ass waitress mode.

Cameron finally came around the mass of junk to eyeball the new boy toy a little better. Damn, Whit had out done herself this time. She went and got King Marshmellow of Marshmellowonia. Whitney watched her friend scope out her boyfriend. Which she had done many times over the years. If she liked him she would raise an eye brow and smirk. If not, she would just smile and introduce herself. She watched as Cameron's eyebrow raised and the smirk soon followed. Phew.

Cameron walked into the kitchen. What was supposed to be the kitchen. "I'd offer you something to drink but I heard the tap water in New York shouldn't be drank."

"No problem," Whitney said, still leading Orlando through the maze. As she neared her friend she realized she must have just got home. She wasn't slouching in pjs as she usually was when she was writing. She was wearing jeans and a button down shirt that was nearly too small.

Cameron threw her glasses on the counter. "I have some red wine though if either of you are interested," she said, waving the bottle.

Whitney looked at Orlando. "Sure," he said.

"Alright then," said Cameron, kicking a box across the floor. "Let's go to the roof before I have a meltdown. And it requires no rusty water drain climbing," she said, too perky, winking at Orlando. She headed up the stairs that lead to the roof.

"You don't suppose she knows anything about me do you?" Orlando asked with a smile.

"Of course not," Whitney smiled back. "She's dense."

* * *

Cameron sat on the edge of her lounge chair, long legs crossed, drink in hand, letting the sun soak her face. Whitney hated the way she was acting. She took her hair out of the bun and shook her head to let it "sexily tumble down" as Cam had told her once before. Cameron was being too friendly, too flirty, acting too sexy. She was doing this because Orlando was there. Whitney knew it. Cameron was like that. Not just with her boyfriends but with guys in general. She was a big time flirt. No matter whether she went home with them at the end of the night or not.

"So how long have you two been going out?" Cameron asked.

"I told you," Whitney said, a little meaner than she meant to.

"No, you didn't."

"Yes, I did."

"When?" asked Cameron, uncrossing and recrossing her legs, giving sideways glances at Orlando.

"I told you the same day I said I wanted you to meet him."

"No you didn't."

"Yes I did!"

Cameron knew Whitney was upset with her. Why, exactly, she hadn't pinpointed yet. She would let her win. She sat back in her lounge chair then took a long sip from her glass. "Alright then. I'm sorry. Remind me."

"Five months," Orlando said, feeling the tension between the two friends.

"A new record," Cameron said jokingly.

Whitney was in no mood for jokes at this moment. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Nothing," said Cameron, holding her hands up in defense. "I was kidding. Sorry." She sat silent then, looking at her bare feet.

Orlando sat silent too, not wanting to interfere in the girls' business. The sound of the door opening to the roof turned Whitney's attention.

"Hey Cam," the guy at the door called.

Cameron looked up.

"Come 'ere a minute."

Cameron got up, handing the wine bottle off to Orlando. "Excuse me," she said, then went in the door, closing it behind her.

Orlando sat quiet a moment longer before deciding to say something, anything, to Whitney. "Who was that?" he asked innocently.

"That is Cameron's infamous on again, off again rock star boyfriend slash ex-boyfriend."

"Infamous, huh?"

"Yes," she replied, sipping her wine. "Those two are on and off more than a frequently used light switch."

"Wow."

"Sorry I'm being such a bitch," Whitney said looking at him.

"You're not being a bitch," he replied, wrapping his arm around her.

"Yes I am. I just hate when she acts that way. All flirty and trying too hard to be sexy. She does it all the time with any guy, so I don't know why I let it bother me."

"Because I'm doing it around him," Cameron said, coming back out to sit on her chair.

Whitney looked at her. "So what did Mr. Chad Rockgod want?"

"Just wanted to ask me a question," said Cameron, sitting on her lounge chair Indian style, taking the time to put her hair back in a bun.

"What are you...You might as well leave your hair down. He's already seen it tumble sexy down your shoulders. And don't tell me you're dating him again."

Cameron put her hair in the bun anyway. "I'm not."

"You're not dating him or you're not telling her?" asked Orlando with a smile.

Cameron smiled back. Damn her for flirting. She caught the look her friend was giving her and quickly turned the smile off. "I'm not dating him. He's married now, Whit, for cripe's sake. I'm not that kind of person."

"Then what was he doing?" Whitney asked.

"Asking me a question. Like I told you."

"About what?"

"Business."

"What kind of business, Cameron. Be more specific." No matter what she was saying, Whitney wasn't buying it.

"Just business, Fifty. Just business."

Orlando scooted to the edge of his seat. "Ok. Fill me in here. Why do you call her Fifty?"

"You don't know?" asked Cameron, looking at Whitney who rolled her eyes.

"No."

Cameron smiled. "Ask Whit," she said, pointing at her.

He turned to her. "Why does she call you Fifty?"

"Remember last night?"

"Yes. Vividly actually."

"Ok then."

"I'm still not following. Is there something I'm missing?"

Putting her hands over her mouth to keep from spewing wine all over her best friend and her new boy toy, Cameron started to laugh.

"What's so funny, Gudder?"

"So much for keeping the sexual aspect of your relationship quiet."

Orlando looked between the two girls. "So it's sexual."

"Oh yeah," said Cameron, taking a swig of wine. "And apparently you did something of the sort last night. Involving whipped cream, I presume?" She raised her salon perfectly arched brow.

Orlando turned a little red and Cameron laughed that much more. Whitney threw a pebble at her. She dodged it.

"Hey, it's not my fault. You should have warned him."

"I did. I told him you were insane."

"Well, I'm not the only one."

Orlando turned back to his natural color and straightened, looking at Cameron with a suspicious smile. "Why are you called Gudder?" he asked, hoping to embarrass her as she had them.

She sat back in her chair. "Because my mind's always in the gutter." She smiled.

Orlando shook his head.

"Didn't work out like you planned did it? You wanted to embarrass me."

"No. It didn't work at all."

Only Whitney knew how to bring her down. And if they had a big fight, she would use the information to her advantage and come out the winner of the argument. Cameron looked at her friend. She was happy. And Cameron was happy that she was happy. She could go on to tell more embarrassing stories, but Whitney was already ticked off with her. Why encourage her to spill the one thing that brought her entire world down?

"I have dirt on you, ya know," Whitney said. "I know what embarrasses you."

"What you know does more than embarrass me, and you know it. I've stopped. You don't have to bring it up."

"What about that time you and Chad were on the roof and that news helicopter flew over, shining it's light down?"

Cameron shrugged. "I don't care. Tell it. Doesn't bother me."

Orlando sat back. "I feel I know too much already."

Cameron laughed, "Oh lord, you don't know anything yet."

"I'm going to go get some vodka Cam," She started to go downstairs but then turned around and asked Orlando, "you want a couple shots of tequilla?'

"No,"

"Alright Whatever,"

Whit walked downstairs, and came back up with a full bottle of vodka.

Orlando looked at her,amazed that she would drink. She never had before. She got a large drink out of the bottle

'I guess I'm driving us back to the hotel then?" Orlando asked.

"I guess if you want to, if not I will." She finished off the vodka quickly.

"Believe it or not I'm the alcoholic," Cameron said.

"Well, come on then," Orlando got up and motioned for Whitney. She stood up and started to walk but then she stumbled and Orlando had to help her off the roof.

"Bye Cameron," Orlando said holding Whitney up, "it was...," he hesitated for a second searching for the right words. He couldn't find them, so he decided to lie, "nice meeting you," He walked them to his car and put Whitney in the passanger seat and took off down the road.

"Bye," she said as she watched them leave.


	3. A Seductress and a Halfling

The view they saw from inside the cab was amazing. Cameron couldn't wait to be out and see the entire beach scene. She had been to many beaches, but a beach in Hawaii was a different story. Once the cab came to a stop, everyone jumped from the backseat to have a look around while the driver unloaded the bags. Orlando was the first to the edge of the small cliff that overlooked the beach.

"This is amazing."

Cameron soon was by his side. "Wow."

Whitney nearly pushed Cameron off the cliff to edge between the two of them. "It's beautiful." Whitney loved Cameron, but somehow she felt not as much as she was beginning to love Orlando. Maybe she had known Cameron for ions, but she wasn't going to let her come between her and the man she loved.

"Welcome to the beautiful island of Oahu!" said a voice as it neared.

Orlando turned and walked to the voice. Whitney followed suit.

"Hey Dom," Orlando said, hugging his friend.

"How was your trip?"

"Great."

"Hello beautiful," Dominic said, hugging Whitney.

"How've you been?"

"Good, good, good," he replied, sticking his hands in his pockets, smiling, then rocking back and forth on his heels. "She with you?" he asked, nodding toward Cameron who still stood at the cliff.

"Yeah. She's Whitney's friend. We brought her along to keep Whit occupied," said Orlando.

"I thought that was your job," Dominic joked, patting his friend on the back.

"If I'm not around."

"Is she just gonna stand there all day or is someone goin' to push her?" asked Dominic.

"I thought about it," Whitney said, without a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

"I thought maybe you did. I saw you nearly knock her off when you went over."

"Cameron," Orlando called, "C'mon. Let's go."

Cameron turned, picking up her bag then walking over. She looked up from her feet into the face of Dominic whose face went absolutely blank. He stared. Orlando and Whitney watched them. Cameron smiled and applied her flirty eyes. Yep, it was official, Whitney thought. Being a flirt was a reflex for Cameron. Orlando took it upon himself to introduce them.

"Dom, Cameron Urban. Cameron, Dominic Monaghan."

"Hi," she said, tucking her hair behind her ear. Too bad her hair wasn't up so she could take it down and let it tumble. But two out of three wasn't bad.

Whitney watched her. Her "flirt with every guy that looks your way" thing was definitely a reflex.

"Hu..." Dominic slurred.

"Smooth, Dom. Real smooth," said Orlando.

Dominic took a second to try and gather his composure. He took a breath, took his hands out of his pockets, and smiled.

"Nice to meet you," he finally said, reaching his hand out to her.

"Like wise," she said, shaking his hand.

"Ok Dominic. You can let go now," said Whitney, trying not to laugh at him. If only he knew what he were getting himself into.

Dominic let Cameron's hand go and stuffed his back in his pockets. He began to rock on his heels again.

"Are you on crack?" teased Orlando, stealing a line from Cameron.

"No. Speed."

Whitney and Orlando shot him a look. Cameron smiled. He was lying. He smiled back at her.

"If I knew you were bringing someone else I would have gotten more than two tickets," Dominic said.

"Tickets for what?" Orlando asked.

"For an island cruise," he said, pulling the tickets from his back pocket. "I figured you two should see Hawaii. And what better way to see it than in the water, eh?" He handed the tickets off to Whitney.

"How sweet. Too bad we can't go."

"Who says you can't?" asked Dominic.

"What are we going to do with Cameron?" Whitney asked.

"What is she, your kid?" he asked, gesturing toward her. "She's a big girl. I'm sure she can take care of herself." He smiled again.

"We don't want to abandon her," said Orlando.

"Go. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine. How much trouble could I possibly get into?" Cameron asked.

"You?" said Whitney. "A lot."

"If it will make you feel any better," Dominic said, walking toward Cameron, "I'll take her with me." He stood by her side. "You two can go be alone on your little cruise and Cameron and I will..." he paused to look at her. She looked back. "Well, I don't know what we'll do but we can come up with something."

"Are you..." Orlando started.

Dominic grabbed Cameron's bag in one hand and Cameron's hand in the other and started to walk away. "Go. Have fun," he called back as they walked down the hill. "I'll take good care of her, I promise."

Orlando and Whitney watched their two friends get smaller and smaller as they walked away together, hand in hand.

"Where do you think they'll go?" Whitney asked.

"My guess is... his apartment."

* * *

About 4 hours later, Whitney and Orlando returned from their mini-cruise. While Orlando went into their hotel room to make a phone call, Whitney went to Cameron's room to see if she was there. Much to her surprise, she was.

"Hey Whit," Cameron said, throwing her clothes on the bed.

"How long have you been here?"

"Ummm," she straightened. "An hour? Or so?"

Whitney looked at her. She didn't look different. A little red. She and Dominic probably went down to the beach. But that didn't explain why she had changed clothes or why her lips were so red.

"Why did you change clothes?" Whitney asked suspiciously.

Cameron looked over at her pile of clothes. "They got wet. So I changed. How was your cruise with lover boy?"

"They got wet. How did they get wet?"

"From the water, you dimwit. What's with the questions?" asked Cameron, turning her full attention to her friend. Whitney thought something was up. Cameron knew it would take a miracle for her to believe the truth also.

"Did you have sex with Dominic?" asked Whitney without hesitation.

Cameron stood silent for a second, her hands on her hips.

"Oh my god, you did," she sighed.

"No I didn't!"

"Then why did you change clothes?"

"Because they got wet!" Cameron exclaimed. "We went down to the beach and goofed off. We ended up waist deep in the water. I came back and changed."

"Is that it?"

"Yes. I didn't have sex with him. Hell, I didn't even kiss him."

"Then why are your lips so red?" Whitney asked, still suspicious.

Cameron rubbed her lips. "Oh," she said. "I gave him a blow job," she said, then bent over to finish unpacking.

Whitney sat down heavy on the bed, her mouth open. "Du..." She couldn't even speak. Her friend met Orlando's friend and in one day, four measly hours, they had already engaged in a sexual activity. Cameron came over and sat beside her.

"You can close your mouth now."

Whitney looked at her, mouth closed now, but still with an unbelieving, disappointed look.

"And you can quit giving me that 'you've screwed up again' look."

"You gave him a bl..."

"I didn't do anything. I was kidding."

"Kidding?"

"Yeah. Ya know. Like 'Ha ha ha ha ha'? It was a joke. I had a couple Shirley Temples and kept pressing my lips together."

"You were nervous?" Whitney questioned and smiled.

"He's hot," said Cameron, standing and going over to the sink to wet a washcloth. "I kept myself from doing what you thought I did." She started scrubbing her lips with the rag. "I'm a flirt, not a slut."

"Since when?" Whitney teased.

Cameron came back to the bed. "I hate to be the one to burst this whored up bubble image you have of me, but I haven't slept with nearly as many guys as you think I have."

Whitney only looked at her.

"What? You want proof or something?"

"No, I just..."

"You don't believe me."

Whitney looked away. Cameron shrugged.

"Hey, no big deal. You took what you saw at face value. I can't blame you."

"Well," Whitney said, standing, "you never tried to convince me otherwise."

"I didn't think I had to."

Cameron knew a lot of people thought of her as some easy slut. She just didn't know her best friend would be one of those people. Sure, she probably could have got Dominic into bed with her. Most guys aren't hard to convince. But why would she compromise anything? Was there anything to compromise? Maybe her friendship with Whitney. What would have happened if she had slept with him? Would he tell Orlando? Cameron knew she wouldn't tell anyone. If he told him, would Orlando tell Whitney?


	4. hawaii

Cameron was lying out on the beach, her red hair fanned out behind her. She was half asleep in her tanning, her black bikini strongly attracting the sun and the attention of many male beach goers. She paid them no attention. She just wasn't in the mood to flirt. Too many meatheads and too little airhead cheerleaders. She put her oversized sunglasses back on and closed her eyes behind them.

"Like no one ever lays out in the sun around here," she said to herself.

So she thought.

"No one quite as beautiful as yourself lays out in the sun around here."

Cameron lifted her sunglasses and looked at Dominic. "That is a terrible pick up line," she said sarcastically.

"I was trying. I have worse," he said, smiling at her as he sat in the sand.

"I'm sure you do." She lowered her sunglasses and leaned back in her lounge chair. "What are you up to?" she asked him.

"No good," he said.

She knew he was smiling. She didn't have to look at him to know. She smiled too.  
"Aren't we all?" she joked.

"I suppose. But only you and me will admit it."

"True."

Dominic looked around the beach. It was more crowded than usual today. He saw Cameron here on the beach and decided to throw a pick up line or two her way to see if she would take them. He should have known better. She picked up on his game long before he ever started to play it. But he could try. Maybe he could convince her to go out with him somewhere. Anywhere.

"Hey, uh, do you..." he started.

Cameron sat up, taking her sunglasses off, and looked at him. "Where do you want me to go with you?"

He sat quiet for a second. "Ummm...I don't know."

"Then what is the point of hitting on me?"

"To see if I could and get away with it."

"Well, you have. Now what?"

Dominic looked behind him. "How about The Bungalow."

"What is it?"

"A little bar slash disco slash restaurant."

"They still have discos?"

"Just this one." He smiled slyly. "We are talking about the place whose delicacy is spam. What more do you want from them?'

She smiled back at him, shaking her head. "Alright," she said as she stood. "Let's go." She took her black halter dress from her bag and put it on over her bikini. Stuffing her array of things into her bag and slipping on her sandals at the same time, Dominic stood and folded her lounge chair. She watched him, putting her hair up in a bun then sliding her sunglasses on the top of her head. He tucked the chair under his arm.  
"Ready?" he asked, turning to her.

"Always."

With his free hand he took hers and lead her to the road. They stopped briefly at the hotel to leave the lounge chair and Cameron's enormous beach bag then headed off to the bar.

Whitney and Orlando sat facing the wind on the small sail boat. She was sitting in front of him and he was holding her, his chin on her shoulder. He kissed her neck.

"What do you suppose Cameron is doing?" she asked him.

"I don't know. She could be doing anything. Probably with Dominic."

"Doing anything with Dominic?"

"I mean she could be doing anything or she could be with Dominic," he said. "Why are you so worried about her?"

"She's my friend. I have to."

"Not quite the way you are. She's twenty-three, sweetheart. She'll be alright on her own. I can promise you."

"You don't know Cam the way I do," she said, turning to face him.

"You won't let me," he said.

"I don't like her flirting with you."

"You said yourself she does it with everyone, not just me."

"I know but..."

"Whit."

She sighed. "I'm sorry. I just don't want her to get hurt."

"Hurt how?"

"Physically or otherwise. She acts a lot stronger than she actually is."

"I'm sure she's fine. If she's with Dominic, he'll take care of her."

She laughed. Orlando looked at her.

"Not like that, you pervert."

"I'm not laughing because of that. You won't believe what Cameron told me the first day we were here."

"What did she tell you?" he asked with a smile. He knew it was probably something crazy.

"When I went into her hotel room she had changed clothes. She said she and Dominic were goofing off and she got wet so she had to change."

"You do have a dirty mind."

"No, just listen."

Orlando slouched and nodded.

"Her lips were really red. I noticed it when I came in but waited before I said anything. She was acting weird so I asked her, just out of habit, if she slept with him."

"Whitney..."

"I know. I'm terrible. She told me no. I didn't really believe her. And truthfully, I still don't. But I asked her why her lips were so red, she turned to look in the mirror then turned back to me and said 'Oh, I gave him a blow job'."

Orlando layed back on the deck, dying with laughter.

"I thought I was going to pass out." She slapped him. "I don't think it was so funny."

"I'm sorry," he said, sitting up but still laughing. "What was the real reason?"

"She said they went to a little bar and she had Shirley Temples and she kept pressing her lips together. Which, she does that when she's nervous."

"Drinks Shirley Temples?"

"Presses her lips together. A lot."

He nodded. "Oh. Which do you believe?"

"I hope the latter is the truth."

"You hope?"  
"Like I said, I don't put anything past Cameron."

"When you said she was a slut, you meant it."

"I did not!" she said louder than she meant to.

"Yes you did," he said. "You believe the things she makes jokes of when you think she's been up to something you don't know about. You really believe she slept with Dominic, even though she told you she didn't AND you believe she gave him a blow job. You take everything she says to heart."

"No I don't."

"Yes you do. That's why when she's out with someone you have a panic attack the entire time." Orlando shook his head, rubbing his eyes. "Those two in bed was not a visual I needed."

"She might not even be out with Dominic," she said, turning away from him.

"She may not. But that doesn't keep you from wondering who she's with and what she's doing," he said, wrapping his arms around her.

Whitney sat silent. Orlando was right. But she wasn't going to tell him that. She didn't put anything past Cameron. She had done a lot of weird, wild, and crazy things over her twenty-three years. She only worried about her being hurt; someone taking advantage of her flirtiness and friendliness. She hoped Cameron was in the hotel room watching porn rather than making it.

Cameron and Dominic sat laughing, the jukebox playing on old Elvis song. She sat swirling a straw in her Shirley Temple glass. He was rubbing a slice of lime around the rim of his Bloody Mary. They were having a good time without the close chaperoning of Whitney and Orlando. Orlando wasn't nearly as bad as Whitney. Cameron knew she was just looking out for her. Lord knew she never did it for herself. It was almost an unwritten friendship law; you watch your friend's back and she'll watch yours. The thing was, Whitney kept a good eye on her own back as well as Cameron's. That was something Cameron hadn't managed to ever do herself. She remembered laying in a hospital bed, not being able to move her legs or turn, her arm in a sling, her nose broke, her jaw wired shut and black and blue from head to toe and writing a note to the nurse asking her to call Whitney and remind her of the audition for some part in a soap opera. Whitney had came to the hospital later that day and told Cameron she owed her a good slap up side her head for worrying about her stupid auditions when her friend was much more important. Cameron drew a smiley face with it's tongue sticking out.

"Cam?" Dominic said, drawing her out of her inner outerspace.

She looked up from her glass. "Sorry. I zoned out. I should have mentioned I do that from time to time."

"Don't we all?"

"But I'm special. I do it more than the average person."

"Of course you're special," he smiled at her. "Who else has a friend tailing them to make sure no one gets closer than three feet to you?"

She laughed her girly laugh then ran her hand across the back of her neck. She hated that laugh. It reminded her of the female mice on Tom & Jerry.

"Aren't you just precious," he said, smiling again. Slyly this time.

She picked an ice cube from her glass and threw it at him. "Shut up."

He laughed. "I, personally, like your baby laugh."

"Baby laugh? I was thinking more along the line of mice."

"Sounds much better coming from you," he said. He picked her ice cube up off the table where it had landed after bouncing off of his forehead. He threw it back to her. She jumped as it went into her dress.

"I hate you," she said as she dug the ice cube out of her cleavage.

"Ah, to be that ice cube," he laughed.

"Not a chance," she said, laying the nearly melted ice cube on the table.

Dominic shrugged. "I tried."

"You need some new pick up lines."

"I know. I don't pick up girls often. How am I supposed to know what's good or bad?"

"Is it easier to pick up guys with those lines," she smirked.

"Ah ha, ah ha, ah ha," he said, unamused.

"Ooooo, it got a bit frigid in here." She laughed.

"You'll pay for that one," he said, pointing at her.

She leaned forward on the table. "Bring it on, loser."

"Loser, eh?"

"Mmm hmm."

"Oh well. Who am I to fight with that."

"Ok I win. Now tell me what your worst pick up line was."

Dominic looked up at the straw roof of the bungalow. "Uh, I was drunk the night I used it. I remember that." He looked at her. "From other people, of course."

"Of course."

"I think I said something along the lines of 'Hey, do you like jigsaw puzzles? Let's go back to my place and see if my piece fits into yours'."

Cameron laughed.

"I know, it's terrible. I never used that line sober, so I knew I had to be drunk when my friends told me what I said."

"That has got to be one of the best of worst pick up lines."

"What's the worst you've heard?"

"Oh my god." She sat back in her chair. "I was filling in as a bartender at this club my ex and his band use to play at. I had a sucker in my mouth to keep from drinking the drinks I was making. This meathead comes to the bar, looks me up and down then says 'The way you're workin' that sucker, you've gotta give good head'."

Dominic's eyes widened. "Wow."

"There's more. I looked right at him and said 'You're right. I do'. His mouth dropped open and I sat a mug of beer on the bar and said 'See'."

Dominic laughed. "I get it. Head. Foam. Beer."

"Yeah. He got it after I sat the beer on the counter. But it was hilarious. People made fun of that guy for weeks."

"I'll bet."

Cameron sat listening to the jukebox as "One More Try" by George Michael came on. She nodding her head for a second then reached her hand out to Dominic. He looked at her hand then at her face.

"Come on, dance with me," she said.

"What?"

"Dance...with...me," she said slowly.

"I can't dance."

"Of course you can. Everyone can dance. Maybe not well, but everyone can dance."

"No, I am dancing impaired. Sorry."

She got out of her seat and walked over to him. She grabbed his hand and pulled him out onto the empty floor. He whined.

"Cameron..."

"You've been hitting on me since I came to Hawaii. Do something for me," she said, pulling him to her. "Just this once."

He wrapped his right arm around her, still holding her hand with his left. "I thought getting you drunk on Shirley Temples to take advantage of you was enough." He smiled.

"If you don't dance with me I can sober up real quick."

He sighed, leaning his forehead on her shoulder. "This is excruciating."

"What are you talking about?" she said, moving her shoulder. He moved his head away. "The only people here are you, me, and the bartender. Who the hell is going to notice what a horrible dancer you are? Chill out for cripe's sake, you baby."

He smiled bigger. "You're something else."

"I told you I was special."

Orlando and Whitney walked up the beach on their way to the hotel. Whitney was hoping to see Cameron sitting outside smoking a cigarette out of boredom. She wasn't there. The light in her room wasn't on and her lounge chair was sitting outside the door. Where in the world was she?

"Would you look at that," Orlando said.

Whitney turned back and looked at him. He was looking toward the nearby tiki bar. She followed his gaze. There in the middle of the floor was Cameron and Dominic...dancing. Dancing? Since when did Cameron dance like that. It was, well, normal and civilized. Oh who was she to talk? She played Britney Spears in a movie, gyrating and shaking everything she had and some of what she didn't in front of millions of people. But this was Cameron. She walked back to Orlando.

"What in the world are they doing?" she asked.

"They're dancing, sweetheart."

"I knew that."

"That's what they're doing. It's innocent."

Whitney saw Cameron's purse at a table. She noticed the drinks on the table; the empty glasses amongst the full.

"They've been drinking," said Whitney.

"They drink, Whit. We know that."

"They're probably drunk. So it's not that innocent."

"You think very little of both of them," Orlando said, looking away from Dom and Cameron and to Whitney.

"I don't want her to get hurt," she said as she started to walk toward the bungalow.

Orlando grabbed her arm. She turned to him.

"Please let me go," she said.

"He won't do anything to hurt her, Whitney. Leave them alone."

"They're drunk!" she protested.

"How do you know that? Do you know exactly how much it takes to get them drunk?"

"No."

"Then you can't say they're drunk. Dominic won't do anything that will hurt her. Around her, with her, to her, nothing. Trust a little more."

"How do you know he won't hurt her?" she asked, still not believing him.

"I've known him for seven years. He's never done anything like you're thinking before. And if he were going to hurt her, why would he wait this long? It's been nearly a week."

"He's trying to gain her trust maybe?"

"Whitney," Orlando said, holding her face between his hands. "I swear to you, nothing will happen to her while she is with him. You know as well as I do if he did Cameron would come to you. And you would tell me if you weren't already in jail for Dom's murder. She'll be fine. They'll be fine."

Whitney only looked into the face of this man who she trusted so much. Orlando had never lied to her. She could always take his word. His word was as good as gold. He had never let her down this far. Why would it change now?

"Besides," he said, "they're rather cute together."

Whitney turned to look at them. They were gone. She turned back to Orlando. He smiled at her.

"Come on, let me get your mind on something else," he said then lead her to their hotel room.

Two hours after leaving The Bungalow and walking the beach talking and goofing off, Dominic walked Cameron to her hotel room.

"Thanks for a good time," she said, turning to him as he came up beside her.

"My pleasure," he smiled. "We should do it again before you leave."

Cameron smirked at him. "Are you making moves on me again, Dominic Monaghan?"

"Yes. I believe I am."

She laughed. "Alright. Just so you're honest."

He placed his hand on his heart. She smiled. She unlocked the door and opened it. She reached over grabbing his shirt collar, bringing him closer to her. She kissed him. When she let him go, he stood shocked.

"What was that for?" he asked curiously.

"That was for the drinks."

He smiled nervously. "I should buy you drinks more often."

Before he could finish another thought Cameron wrapped her arm around his neck and kissed him again; deeper this time. He stood surprised, but welcoming her kiss. He returned her kiss. Their tongues fought for a moment until she pulled away, pressing her lips together. Dominic rubbed his cheek.

"That was for the dance," she said then smiled, turning and going into her room and closing the door.

Dominic stood outside the closed door for a couple of minute before he walked away, his hands deep in his pockets.

"I should really learn to dance."k I win. Now tell me what your worst pick up line was."e.


End file.
